Daniel Pierre, came to the remote location in 1978 to learn about bronze casting and did all of the casting of John Henry's sculptures.
Daniel, a sculptor and print-maker, is currently working in wood and developing a line of furniture. For information regarding his or John Henry's work he can be reached at 928-202-8335.
By Daniel Pierre
The rest of the pieces are by J.H. Waddell.
There's a large berm surrounding what was meant to be a lake. This seated figure looks up at the women along the top.
I was perusing my followers and found Carole Murphy. My memory is nearly worthless -- take heed all yea who think a remembrance infers significance -- but there's a vague recollection of discovering her work a couple of years ago.
I particularly like her mixed-media work which is what the link below goes to. She's in Portland, Oregon and welcomes visitors to her studio.
It was while checking the grade on a rocky slope in the Nevada desert I noticed the Metro (3 cyl, 1,000cc, 50+ miles/gal) needed new tires. The Michelin "X Radial"s I'd bought two years ago were warranted (yeah, right) for 80,000 miles. Now at 35,000, less than half their lifespan, they were shot. I googled Costco and began cogitating on the worth of my pro-rated refund.
I settled on a store in an outlying suburb of Salt Lake City. It was rush hour (of course) when I began my approach. I made several passes, each involving getting on & off the freeway, multiple u-turns (when sequential they become pirouettes) and other gyrations. Forty minutes later.....not bad for rush hour.
Early demise - Promise not even remotely met.
I couldn't help but overhear as The Tire Manager schpeeled the customer in front of me. The pros and cons of tires weren't as fascinating as the olde days, but his prosody was amusing. Generally found in car salesmen, door-to-door proselytizers and multi-level marketers (multi-level doesn't qualify for the teer suffix...as in marketeer), it had that "just get 'em tuh get out their wallet" cadence.
My turn. Things quickly deteriorated. I had THE FINAL INVOICE but not a receipt...and there wasn't one in the computer. AND the computer contained no evidence of my having purchased an INSTALLATION PACKAGE (road-hazard & caveats coverage). This was where things got rough. I remembered buying the package, I always do, but without it the tire's warranty isn't worth the noise of voicing it. He Laughed Out Loud when I asked about the manufacturer's warranty. We then went out, took the measure of the tread, and determined that the tires were, in fact, worn out.
Back inside, Steve printed out all the information in my file and signed off on my handwritten notes. It was getting late and he offered to escort me through the work area rather than chance the possibility of overexertion from walking round the building. I accepted.
As we approached the exit door he asked what had brought me to the area. I explained I'd been the primary caregiver for two women undergoing treatment for cancer during the last few years and was taking a breather before entering the next phase, a stem-cell transplant pre-op meeting at the Mayo Clinic. This is a difficult subject for me and I spoke while looking at the floor. The pause that followed my last sentence was longer than usual and when I looked up I saw that he was crying. I asked what was wrong.
He said he'd found out this week his mother has an aggressive form of breast cancer and was going to die. He and his wife were planning to visit, but the doctors had refused to speculate on how much time she had and he was in a turmoil over when to schedule the time off.
It is moments like this that even I find difficult. A friend who's had far more experience once counseled me to simply say, "I'm sorry." And so I did. He thanked me and there followed another pause. I thought he might reach for the door, but instead he talked a bit about her condition, how young she is, the life she's lead and that with all that and 24 grandchildren it didn't seem fair. Again at a loss for words, after a moment I once more expressed my sympathy and extended my hand, which he accepted.
As I walked out into the deepening dusk of the parking lot I looked up at the stars which were just beginning. I stood there softly crying and pondered on how difficult it sometimes gets. Somehow, most of us find the wherewithal to make it through. Later I remembered what my wife (the one time I legally married) who was an ICU nurse (the Intensive Care Unit is where alot of the dying occurs) said, "It's sad how many people don't take the time to say I love you. It's often too late when they get to the end....and then they realize they've missed their chance." If I'd been thinking a bit faster I might have said something to Steve about the significance of those three words; but I felt sure he knew.
Intuition said head for the pass. I could just make it out against the darkeling sky. As I drove through the streets of Springville a sign for the Art Museum blinked. I made a mental note to check it out the next day.
Suddenly, I noticed a multitood of cars parked along the curb and a large, brightly-lit building loomed in the dark -- people were coming and going. It was the museum and there was a reception in process. Art has always provided solace and I made for the entrance like a boar that's sighted a sow. (Male pig's are famous for their multiple orgasms; little to nothing is known of female pigs' orgasms. One can guess which gender did the counting.)
The installation by Ashlee Whitaker, Associate Curator of Exhibition
The reception was for an exhibit of paintings and prints by German-American artist, Herr Wulf Barsch. Born in 1943, Herr Barsch studied painting in Germany before immigrating to the U.S. After receiving his Master's degree from Brigham Young University he taught there. Over the years he also produced a number of lithographs at The Tamarind Institute in Albuquerque.
But it was Andrew Smith's sculpture, Moon Pool that made the day.
After the party the road led into the "Exclusive Neighborhood." (Nothing like a big home to assuage mortality.) At the end I took a right, went about a mile and came to Canyon Road.
The name sounded right and I could make out some high ridges against the dark sky. Ten (mostly dirt) miles later I was ensconced on a mountain top surrounded by those (aforementioned) stars. Now, I could tell, giving it their all.
And though not fully recovered from the jolt of Steve's mother's illness, they inspired a wave of gratitude for the sixth sense that enables me to find my way home each night...into the wilds where they await with their undying lights.
TodaaAAAaay....we're at the site of the world-renowned Balderson Sculpture. It is sited in a remote corner (NE) of Oregon, USA atop a magnificent mountain on Highway 3 at Flora Junction (34.7 miles N of Enterprise).
Whether you've arrived via the valley of the Grande Ronde River or from Chief Joseph Canyon its beauty adds an almost unbearable level of sublimittude to an incomparable driving experience.
On any given day, several, maybe even six or eight, people view this work through the tinted glass of their vehicle's windows.
Known as The Innie-Outtie, it was among the first produced in COR-TEN steel. When asked, "Why?" Balderson waxed eloquent over the fluidity and patina of Cor-Ten. Then, in a moment of salacious verbosity, admitted a predilection for its "piquancy." (A steel-licker!!).
The Northern "Innie" view (see image above) presents two outward curves that evoke the essence of erotic splendor, beckoning, awaiting hook-up. Oft-cited as an homage to The Vagina Dentata (or is it lock-jaw...you won't get in HERE!), an additional scintillating flush of ambiguity is evinced through the crossworks connecting the labili.
The work is recognized the world over as an ovarial expression of today's androgynous zeitgeist and has been referenced as having influenced artists Richard Serra and the guy who did Where The Wild Things Went, to name only two.
When queried about the acclaim, Balderson kicks her instep and says ,"Aw shucks, 'twarn't nuthin."
Patina!!! (and scale)
Come hither
At the vertex of the angel-wing sweep of the South-facing surface (outtie) you'll notice a small, crookt, come hither. In personal correspondence with the author (June 3, 2012), Balderson disclosed that this iconic motif was inspired by a denizen of the deep, the Great Woogie Dangler (GWD), a cousin of the anglerfish. The GWD came to light in a 1973 episode of Jacques Cousteau's Undersea Adventures. In it, the GWD is seen dangling its highly evolved appendage (woogie) in front of its gaping maw to attract a meal. Little known at the time, scientists have since proven (ANOTHER use for DNA testing!) that the GWD's appendage is, in fact, the ancestor of today's mammalian (and others') reproductive member. When asked, Balderson, an Undersea Adventures fan, would only say that she felt it "....necessary to add a bit of balance to the Dentata element."
This is a "must see" for ANYone with an interest in sculpture. (Approx 5 miles south of the Washington border and 22.8 miles south of Fields Spring State Park.)
